


Shavasana

by cylobaby27



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-19
Updated: 2018-05-19
Packaged: 2019-05-09 02:15:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14707202
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cylobaby27/pseuds/cylobaby27
Summary: Cass teaches Jason how to do yoga. It's not an easy process.





	Shavasana

Clang. Clang.

No matter how light he was in returning the weight to the base, the metal rang out. Jason was working with enough weight that no delicate touch could make it a quiet workout. Luckily, that didn’t matter here.

He was working out in the Cave, taking advantage of Bruce’s complex weight machines. During his time away from Batman and his toys, Jason had been forced to improvise, either bouncing between gyms around the city or using the streets to train. He had to say, a private space where he didn’t have to hide his strength was something he had missed.

Despite the clanging weights, he didn’t miss Cass slip into the room around six a.m.

When they’d first met, Jason had overlooked Cass. His focus had been on the Bat- _boys_ —the girls had not been a threat. It was not from any sexist prejudices (he had been trained by Talia, after all), but Cass’s dark eyes and olive tones had not elicited the same aggression the cookie-cutter white-man-dark-hair men had.

When Jason had been younger, he’d gotten a secret thrill from his physical similarities to Dick and Bruce. If his adoption hadn’t been plastered around Gotham’s news for several weeks, people might have confused them for blood family. After he’d gotten back from the grave, he’d seen the resemblances among them—duplicated again in Tim Drake—as offensive.

Everyone was so damn replaceable.

So, no, he hadn’t given Cass much thought beyond mentally labeling her as someone not to drop his guard around, and had focused his attention elsewhere. That Cass was a threat physically was something Jason knew instinctively. She moved like a predator, and there was lethality in every muscle. But on the emotional level, she was not one of his replacements, and for a long time, that was all he cared about.

When he started working with the Bats instead of against them, he stumbled into a language barrier with Cass almost immediately. In the field, using body language only, they worked well together. He could predict her movements, if only to know that they’d be the most effective in any situation. She never wasted energy, and could be relied on for speed and accuracy.

Outside the field, it was like talking to a brick wall.

Jason had always relied on his quick tongue, but his quips and observations rolled off Cass without making a dent, when she understood him at all. When she spoke, it was short and pointed, and often hard to parse. Talking to Cass was like solving a crossword puzzle. The clues were there, but often masked, or relying on context Jason didn’t have. Unlike Stephanie, the Cass-whisperer, Jason had been forced to put in real effort to start to understand her.

“Heya, Cass,” he greeted her.

She nodded to him, and set herself up so she could see the rest of the Cave, never quite able to kill the same habits the rest of them had.

Put four Bats in a room and every corner will get filled.

She’d placed herself so he could keep an eye on her if he wanted, but he went back to his weights. If there was any Bat he trusted at his back, it was Cass. After all, if she’d wanted him dead, she wouldn’t have given him the chance to spot her at all.

Eventually, as Jason had settled into his partnership with his old family, he had chipped through the barrier to find ways to talk to Cass. On the other side of the stoic expressions and stumbling language, he had found a quiet, sweet, clever girl. He enjoyed her company, which was quieter in both volume and energy than the rest of the house. His time back with the Waynes was still new. He was sleeping in safe houses around the city rather than in the room Alfred pointedly kept available to him. He took missions on his own that sent him around the world. He clashed regularly with Bruce, Dick, Tim, and the newly-discovered Damian. With Cass, though, he found a break from that tension.

Still, she was a little late that morning for them to hang out. He’d been alternating between cardio pressing weights for more than two hours already, and every muscle group was pleasantly sore. He let the weights drop more loudly than ever on his final rep, stood up, and then started toward the exit.

He heard a quiet, almost imperceptible, scoff behind him.

He turned slowly to look at Cass, who was looking at him with dark eyes even as she kept a steady rhythm of punches on the bag. “What?” he asked.

Her smirk was small enough that five months ago, he might have missed it. “Machines,” she said, shaking her head.

He looked over at the complex series of weight machines and back at her. “You have a problem with weights?”

She stepped away from the punching bag, steadying it with one hand. “Boring,” she said.

“Boring?” he repeated with indignation that was mostly feigned. “Weights make you strong.” He looked pointedly down at his frame, which had at least eighty pounds and a foot on the petite girl.  

She raised one eyebrow. Then, she bent forward and placed her palms on the floor in one fluid motion. She stood back up and then gestured for him to try.

Frowning, he said, “You want me to touch my toes?”

She nodded.

He leaned forward. As a Robin, with a combination of Bruce’s diversified training and Dick’s acrobatic tricks, he had been able to touch the floor and do splits with ease. Now, though, he felt the tension start to pull in his thighs as soon as he passed his knees.

Fuck.

He leaned forward with more energy, determined to reach the ground. He was pulled up short more than three inches from the ground. He inhaled, let his muscles relax, and dropped another half-inch. When he breathed in again, triumphant, he lost the ground he’d gained.

There was a quiet laugh from in front of him.

He bent his knees so he could slap the floor and then stood up again. “What does it matter? I’m not entering any gymnastics competitions soon. I could bench two of you.”

She shrugged. “Boring,” she repeated. Casually, as easily as most people walked, she tipped over into an easy backbend and then landed just as easily.

“Now you’re just showing off,” Jason teased. “So what do you suggest, oh bendy one? I worked hard for this muscle mass, and I’m not interested in losing it. We already have one Dick Grayson in the family.”

In response, she walked over to a stand across the room, which was draped with thin yoga mats of different colors. She selected two in black—probably custom, knowing Bruce—and brought them to the empty center of the room.

“Oh, hell no,” Jason said.

She gave him a stern look and then set the mats down on the ground, facing each other. She slipped off her shoes and stood at the front of one. “My suggestion,” she said, when Jason didn’t move to join her.

“Yoga?” he asked. “Cass, this is for suburban moms too lazy to do Zumba. we’re both beyond this.”

“Prove it.”

He sighed and kicked off his shoes. She wrinkled her nose at the smell. He gave her a smug smile. She’d asked for this, and she’d known he’d been sweating for hours already that morning. He matched her position at the front of his own mat, facing her.

She waited until he had been standing there long enough to wonder if he’s misinterpreted her plan, and then she lifted her arms over her head. He followed suit, the motion jerky and surprised. She lowered her arms, looking at him sternly. Then, exaggerating the motions, she took a deep breath and slowly lifted her arms.

This was stupid. If someone else came downstairs, they’d give him shit for weeks. Jason sighed and shook out his arms, letting his shoulders loosen. He followed her example, moving his arms with his breathing.

She nodded with satisfaction, like he’d done something much more impressive than just lifting his arms. God, did his siblings really set her bar that low?

She led him through a flowing series of poses, no harder than the first. They bent toward the ground (Jason brushing his calves, Cass putting her palms on the mat), and then reached for the sky again. They moved into simple lunges, arms still stretched toward the ceiling.

“And you thought my stuff was boring,” Jason grumbled, following her into a runner’s lunge.

She glanced up at him, but just kept moving.

A few minutes later, Jason regretted his statement. Cass had moved them from a plank position not into the push-ups Jason was hoping for, but into a strange contortion. She demonstrated lifting one leg from the plank up to her chest, twisting it out, and then laying down on it.

He followed, but instead of putting his forehead on the mat like hers, he found himself hovering halfway into the position. “Cass,” he said, gritting his teeth. “I don’t think my body does this.”

“Yet,” Cass said placidly. “Breathe, brother.”

Thirty minutes later, after some more strange poses on the floor, Cass laid back on her mat, palms up, and closed her eyes. He stayed half-sitting up, watching her for the next move. She sighed and melted into the mat.

“Rest,” she instructed without looking at him.

“We’re just going to lay down?” Jason asked.

“Shavasana,” Cass said. “Corpse pose.”

“Been there,” Jason said, but he joined her on the ground.

“Not funny,” she murmured.

The Cave was never truly quiet. Though underground, it was full of the beeps and hums of Batman’s tech—not to mention the natural dripping and echoes of the cave itself, along with the bats that still roosted in some corners. If he focused, Jason could even hear Cass’s steady, quiet breathing nearby.

How long did they have to stay like this? His body, unexpectedly sore from the deep stretches, was grateful for the respite, but his mind was ready to move on. Jason wasn’t one for being still. Save the gargoyle perching and brooding melancholy to Bruce—Jason always had somewhere new to be.

“Shh,” Cass said.

“Didn’t say anything,” Jason grumbled.

Cass just shushed him again.

When she finally let them stand up, she bowed to him. “Not boring?” she asked, a smile tugging at her lips.

“Eh, it was okay until the end,” he said.

She used her rolled mat to smack his arm. “Shavasana is important.”

“Sure, sure,” he said.

“Tomorrow?” she asked.

Jason sighed. As skeptical as he still was, the discomfort had proven Cass’s point—Jason had a flexibility issue. Though he could power through most situations, he could admit that being able to bend a bit more would be useful. “Yeah, yeah. Tomorrow. Just don’t tell anyone about this.”

 

#

 

The first three weeks were difficult.

They had moved from the center of the Cave floor with its harsh lighting and constant noise (and potential for the others to barge in on them) to a room on the second floor of the Manor with large windows. As they practiced, they could watch the sunrise over the trees surrounding the grounds. Despite the peaceful setting, Jason was easily frustrated.

“Legs aren’t supposed to bend that way, Cassandra!”

“Says you.”

Every time Jason felt triumphant about a pose, Cass would show him a more extreme version that he was nowhere close to doing. She was a patient teacher, even during his occasional outbursts. He still huffed and sighed his way through shavasana, which he was sure Cass extended each time just to fuck with him. No one _needed_ to take a nap after a workout.

As time went on, Jason found his flexibility improving. He noticed it first not on the mat, but in the field. He was chasing one of Two-Face’s goons, and had been surprised by another lying in wait. He’d ducked the blow by nearly bending himself in half and popping back to his feet before the man could recover.

Cass hadn’t been there, but from her expression when they’d met the next morning, he thought she somehow knew.

Since coming back from death, Jason had worked hard to be sure he was _strong_. Sometimes he felt that if he could just put enough power behind his punches, he could avoid a second death. Yoga was adding _balance_ to his training, a balance he hadn’t had since his first days working with Batman. It was oddly…settling. Instead of relying on adding more and more weight to his squats and bench-presses, he was taking care to train his whole body. Though he was no stronger than he had been a month ago, he was more centered. He hadn’t realized the difference it would make until he felt it.

He’d even grown to look forward to the final move—shavasana. The more he did it, the more the quiet moments of stillness at the end of each session felt like a respite instead of a chore. His mind settled quickly, trained to accept that they weren’t moving anywhere soon, and Jason was able to enjoy the moments just breathing and being in his body.

There were, of course, mornings they couldn’t do yoga together—missions that lasted past dawn, trips to follow investigations outside of Gotham, injuries that required rest—but they tended to practice together at least five times a week.

Cass never seemed to bore of her new workout partner. If anything, she seemed pleased with his company. They teased each other, though far more gently than anything Jason did with his brothers. Cass was clever and sly, but he never went for the throat in his retorts. He loved Bruce and his brothers—yeah, yeah, it wasn’t like he was going to say it out loud or anything—but he _liked_ Cass. He hadn’t seen it coming, but there was a Cass-shaped soft spot right in the middle of his heart.

From the way she tapped his nose gently in admonishment when he said something she thought was offensive to the way she came over to press him deeper into a pose he was sure he couldn’t do, he thought she probably liked him too.

 

#

 

One morning around four months after their first yoga session together, Cass and Jason were in their usual room practicing variations on the tree pose. Balancing on one foot was not a problem for either of them, but Cass had challenged him to try to lift the other foot up from behind to touch the back of his head. Cass had found the pose easily, but Jason was moving more slowly. His back was still far less flexible than Cass’s, but he was close.

“Breathe,” Cass reminded him.

He took a deep breath and let his foot inch closer to his head.

The door to the room burst open behind them. “There you are!” exclaimed a voice as familiar to Jason as his own. “Alfred said this would probably be where you would… What are you doing?”

Jason glanced back, careful not to lose his balance, to see Dick standing at the entrance of the room. He was in civilian clothes, so there probably wasn’t an emergency. He was looking between Jason and Cass with his brow furrowed.

“Natarajasana,” Jason told him.

“What?”

“King Dancer,” Cass translated.

Dick seemed too stunned to laugh, as Jason had expected.

Damian appeared behind him, already with a thundercloud expression despite the fact it was only seven in the morning.

“Did you find—” He took in the scene. “What the fuck?”

“Language,” Jason teased. “What do you guys want?”

“We’re going to get breakfast. Stephanie found a place with chocolate waffles, so we decided to give Alfred the morning off,” Dick said. “But I guess you two are…busy?”

Cass and Jason exchanged a glance. He’d gotten good at reading her expressions. She wouldn’t complain if he cut short their practice. “Yeah,” Jason said. “We still have a bit to go. Bring back a waffle or two, though.”

“Tt, you don’t get waffles unless you come with us,” Damian said.

“So desperate for my company,” Jason mused.

Damian splutted. “Whatever,” he said, and stalked away.

“Don’t worry. I’ll bring you some. Okay, then. Sorry—I didn’t know you two had a…thing,” Dick said. “I guess I’ll leave you to it?”

“Namaste,” Jason said, and Cass nodded.

Dick, still looking baffled, started to close the door.

“Hey,” Jason added, and Dick stopped. “We start at seven. If you want to join tomorrow.”

His brother’s eyebrows shot up, but he grinned. “You bet,” Dick said.

Once the door was closed and Cass had transitioned them over to the other leg, she glanced over at Jason. “Others?” she asked. They hadn’t told anyone before about their morning sessions. Did she still think he was embarrassed by it?

“Eh, I figured I can’t hoard your yoga guru powers all to myself,” Jason said, giving her a quick wink. “As long as you don’t mind.”

Cass smiled, soft and quiet. “Okay,” she said.

“Now, come on,” Jason said. “You promised to show me how to do that weird one with the twisted arms today.”

Still smiling, Cass did.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm on [Tumblr](http://starknjarvis27.tumblr.com/)!


End file.
